


Scars That I Live With

by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blatant Use Of Movie Quotes During Snuggling, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Panic Attacks, Past Emotional Manipulation, Past Underage Sex, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Restraints, Rope Bondage, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've always thought that Derek's reaction to Kate licking his abdomen was heartbreaking.  To me it spoke to deep-seated hatred and betrayal.  This fic is what happens when several of my friends allow me to talk about how evil Kate was and just how much she messed with Derek's head.  It takes place from the last few minutes of S1E10: Co-Captain and continues through S1E11: Formality.</p><p>Thank you to <a href="http://garrisonbabe.tumblr.com/">Cami</a>, <a href="http://imwiththewolves.tumblr.com/">Kai</a> & <a href="http://kedreeva.tumblr.com/">Kedreeva</a> for being my sounding boards/cheerleaders.  Without them, this fic would never have been completed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.
> 
> Title is from Staind's [Excess Baggage](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WCUaM060i0I).

Derek opens his eyes at the sound of voices in the hall outside.  He can’t make out what they’re saying; not yet anyway, they’re still too far away.  When the voices move closer, Derek can finally make out to whom one of the voices belongs.  Kate.  He clenches his jaw, glaring at the steel door between them as she speaks to someone, _“You know how every family has its secrets?”_ There’s a pause before Kate continues, _“Ours are a little different.”_

The steel door slides open and Kate moves into the room.  Her companion lags behind in the doorway.

Derek can smell the fear and hesitation, but underneath it, there’s determination to not falter.  Quiet steps bring her closer and Derek finally recognizes who the second person is.  The Argent girl.  Allison.

Derek’s eyes flick towards Kate, pupils constricting painfully when the floodlight clicks on.  He roars at her and struggles against the shackles, his hatred for her welling up inside him.  Derek roars louder when she speaks, _“Isn’t he beautiful?”_   The question rankles and Derek pulls at the restraints, snarling at her once more before turning to direct his rage at Allison. 

Kate crosses the room and slaps him in retaliation, “Derek!  Be nice.”

Allison gasps softly and Derek grits his teeth.  He bites back his response, refusing to give Kate what she wants: further reason to hurt him.

Kate smirks, taking a step towards her niece.  Derek watches her shrug out of her sweater, his nose wrinkling in response to the sensory memory her scent elicits.  Kate circles behind Allison, chuckling under her breath before returning to the table.

Derek can’t quite make out Allison’s face, she’s hiding just shy of the light’s reach, but he can hear the hammering of her pulse.  It’s a stark contrast to the steady _lub-dub_ of Kate’s heartbeat while she crosses the room to the table against the wall.

Derek can’t tell what Kate’s doing but he hears the crackle of electricity, smells that unmistakable bitterness a split-second before the voltage surges through his side.  The smell fills the air and his mouth drops open as he tries to breathe through the pain.  Derek chokes out a groan, jaws snapping together to keep from screaming.  He watches Kate turn the dial on the control box and his muscles contract with the increase in voltage.  His eyes squeeze shut and a series of pained grunts escape him before the pain becomes too much and he screams.  Derek pants, chest heaving in an effort to catch his breath when the electric current stops abruptly.

He’s vaguely aware of Kate’s laughter, his focus is entirely on the twitch and spasm of his muscles.  Derek finally has his breathing under control when Kate turns the dial and the electricity courses through him once more.  This time he doesn’t even bother to hold back, each time he can catch his breath, Derek screams.  When it all comes down to it, Kate isn’t going to stop simply because he’s silent.  He hears Allison’s question through the veil of agony, _“What are you doing to him?  Is that gonna kill him?”_

Kate laughs, “Oh come on, kiddo.  Don’t get all ethical on me now.”

Derek tosses his head back, involuntary screams ripping out of him with each breath.  His whole body is on fire, muscles contracting violently with each surge of electricity.  The increased voltage forces the change out of him and Derek roars with each shift between his human and beta form.  The lights flicker briefly then brighten and it takes Derek a few seconds to realize that the current isn’t running through him anymore.  He sags in the restraints and struggles to calm his breathing.  If possible the pain is even worse with the electricity off; every muscle in his body is on fire and his heart is thundering in his chest, a thousand needles etching an agonizing tattoo within the confines of his skull.

“What is he?”

Kate’s words are flippant, “Shapeshifter.  Lycan.   _Werewolf_ ,” she chuckles under her breath and Derek lifts his head to look at her, heart twisting when she mutters, “to me he’s just another dumb animal.”

Derek doesn’t have time to react to her words, because the current is back, flooding his body yet again.  The voltage burns through his biceps and over his chest, a searing trail of misery that makes him grit his teeth.  Derek thrashes in the shackles, a pained groan making its way through his teeth.  He sags forward when the electricity stops, barely able to keep his head up.  Each twist of the dial has brought with it an increase in voltage and by now, Derek’s strength has dwindled to almost nothing.  The lights flicker and then flare brightly once more.  His whole body is twitching minutely, tiny convulsions racking each and every muscle as his body struggles to heal itself.

 _“Come here.”_ Kate’s words cut through the haze of pain, her fingers gripping his jaw and lifting his upper lip.  Derek struggles to focus on her words, somehow knowing that she’s explaining werewolf physiology to Allison.  

The teenager comes closer, questioning her and if Derek had any strength left, he’d snap at Kate’s fingers when her attention shifts away from him and over to Allison.  He’s grateful for the distraction because Kate’s touch withdraws as she answers her niece’s question.

The light flicks off and Derek breathes a quiet sigh of relief as they make their way to back to the steel door.  He catches bits and pieces of conversation as they leave.  The door slides shut and Derek lifts his head, straining to listen through the steel barrier, but their steps retreat down the hallway outside.  He listens until the only thing he hears is the quiet drip of water.  Derek looks up at the shackles, clenching and relaxing his fists.  He flexes left arm, the soreness in his muscles wringing a pained hiss from between his lips.  Derek doesn’t know how much time he has but it doesn’t matter, as soon as he tries to pull his wrist free, the pain overtakes him and he passes out.

 

* * *

 

He has no idea how much time lapses before he wakes up, but Kate is back.  Derek can see her out of the corner of his eye.  She’s standing a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest and she’s just...watching him.  Derek lifts his head and rolls his shoulders as much as his position allows.  He leans back against the bars behind him and tries to figure out a way to get free.

Kate pushes away from the table and moves to stand in front of him, fingertips trailing up his abdominal muscles, “Derek, Derek, Derek...whatever am I going to do with you?”  She smooths a hand up his belly and teases her thumb over his nipple, “Hmm...there’s a few things I can think of.  You?”

Derek bares his teeth, a growl rumbling in the base of his throat.

His reaction only serves to amuse her.  She rakes her fingernails down the middle of his chest and laughs at his hiss of pain.  Kate turns on her heel and starts pacing, clucking her tongue the whole time.

Derek allows his head fall forward and takes a deep breath, watching as the nail marks fade from his naked torso.  He squeezes his eyes shut, listening to the sound of her footsteps as she paces.  Derek tries to get his breathing under control in an effort to tune out the ache in his shoulders and upper back.  He’s so focused that it takes some time for him to realize that Kate is talking while she rifles through his jacket pockets.  Derek watches her shove the cash from his wallet into the pocket of her jeans and looks away as she wanders back over to where he’s restrained.

Kate is holding his driver’s license in her hand and it takes all of Derek’s control to keep from reacting when she grabs his chin and chuckles, “Look at that sour face.”  She releases her grip to taunt, “I bet you always used to get people coming up to you saying, _‘Smile, Derek.  Why don’t you smile more?’_   Don’t you just wanna kick those people in the face?”

Derek opens his eyes and glares at the back of her head, “I can think of one.”

Her response is not one that he’s expecting, “Promise?”  Kate turns to face him and smirks, “‘Cause if I thought you would be that much fun...I’ll let you go.”

It’s an empty promise, Derek knows this, but it’s still a struggle to keep his face neutral.  He wonders what he ever saw in her and it pains him to remember just how easy it was to believe all her lies.  Derek squeezes his eyes shut, fighting to keep the memories at bay.  They don’t serve any purpose, not tonight, maybe not ever again.

He tilts his head back as she speaks, eyes focusing on the beam in front of him.  His impatience gets the better of him but even then, all he can muster is detached indifference,  “Are you gonna torture me...Or are you just going to talk me to death, huh?”

She grins at him, “Oh, sweetie,” her lips curl around the endearment and Derek blocks out the rest of what she says.

That word brings with it so many memories, too many to fight back.  He remembers the first time she used it and every time after that and it hurts to think that even then, it probably meant nothing to her.  The way she casually tosses those two syllables out proves it and _that_ more than anything, infuriates him.

Kate isn’t even looking at him but Derek can hear the smile in her voice, “Remember all the fun we had together?

“Like the time you burned my family alive?”  The words are out of his mouth before Derek can stop them and he’s not surprised by the surge of hatred that wells up in his chest.  His control is wavering and from the look on her face, she knows it.

Kate doesn’t even bat an eyelash, simply taunts him further, “No, I was thinking more about the...hot, crazy sex we had.”

Derek sucks in a ragged breath, jaw clenching at just how sadistic she looks with that smile on her face.  He watches her pupils dilate a split-second before she brings up the fire that killed most of his family.  Derek surges forward, arms screaming in protest at the movement and he hates himself for giving her what she wants.  The pure enjoyment that spreads across her face at his reaction is proof of that.

Kate gets within inches of his face, grinning up at him and Derek struggles to calm his breathing, because he knows that whatever she’s about to say is meant to cut him deep, “I love how much you hate me.”

He glares down at her, breathing hard to keep from reacting, but it only drags more of her scent in and to say that the smell of her perfume doesn’t evoke memories would be a lie.  Derek fights to keep his composure, struggling to make his body to relax and he fails miserably.

“Remember how this felt?”

Derek freezes in response to her question.  She wouldn’t.  Not after all this time, would she?  Derek has a few seconds to prepare for it, but it’s not enough.  The feel of Kate’s tongue licking from the waistband of his jeans up towards his sternum makes his skin crawl and Derek growls, snapping at her when she’s inches from his face.  His chest is heaving, his entire body trembling with barely contained rage and through it all, one thing angers Derek the most?  Seeing her in that position reminds him of the night they first had sex.

It’s almost a blessing when he looks up to see the man standing just inside the doorway.  If Kate’s right and he’s the one doing the torturing, then maybe she’ll stay away.  As much as Derek hates to admit it, seeing Kate and realizing how little he meant her is quite possibly the worst punishment he could endure.  It’s easier to take the physical pain, it always has been.  And that’s the last coherent thought he has before the torture begins.

 

* * *

 

Derek snaps awake, blinking repeatedly in the darkness.  It disorients him, this blindness, because even in little to no light, with his werewolf abilities he _should_ be able to make out some of his surroundings.  Even without his sight, he should be able to _hear_ something.

A few moments pass and it finally registers that he’s blindfolded and his ears are plugged.  Derek shakes his head roughly from side to side, trying to dislodge the blindfold, jaw opening and closing in an effort to somehow work the earplugs free.  He pulls against the restraints, arms flexing first one way then the other and after a few minutes of struggling, one of the earplugs slips loose.  Derek hears it land on the floor at his feet, bouncing a few times before coming to a stop.

With at least some of his hearing back, Derek isn’t quite as disoriented.  The room is eerily quiet, with only the occasional dripof water breaking the near-silence.  He flexes his arms and rotates his wrists in the shackles, trying -in vain- to get loose.  The chains rattle on the bars above him and Derek growls, tugging on them repeatedly, in an effort to break free.  He tosses his head back and roars his frustration, chest heaving with each breath.  Derek blinks uselessly behind the blindfold, willing the frustrated tears away; the sudden crushing helplessness almost too much for him to take.

A small noise catches his attention and he freezes instantly, head turning toward the sound.  Derek takes a slow deep breath and concentrates on his surroundings.  It doesn’t take long for him to pinpoint just what the sound was.  His jaw clenches in an effort to keep from reacting, hating himself for not noticing Kate sooner.  Derek shouldn’t have disregarded her scent, shouldn’t have made the assumption that it was simply leftover from her earlier visit.  He should have realized the scent was too obvious, too overwhelming, too... _fresh_.  As if _that_ wasn’t enough to make him feel inadequate, Derek is completely aware of the fact that he should have been able to pick out the beating of her heart.  It was a stupid mistake, one he’s positive she’ll exploit.

Kate chuckles under her breath, “Oh, Derek,” she _tsks_ softly, “you really should learn to pay attention.”  The chair she’s sitting in creaks as she stands, “Mistakes like that…”

Derek tilts his head, tracking her footsteps as they move closer.

Kate sighs, “Well, I don’t have to tell _you_ how important it is to focus,” her footsteps stop directly in front of him and Derek sucks in a breath when her hand splays over his chest, “do I?”  Her fingertips trail lower and Derek doesn’t need to see her face to know that she’s smiling; he can hear it in her voice, “I have to admit, seeing you after all these years?”  She chuckles, “It’s brought back some _very_ nice memories.”

Derek swallows, eyes squeezing shut at the feel of her fingertips ghosting lower, nails lightly teasing the outline of his abdominal muscles.  He shifts away from the touch and it only serves to amuse her further.

“Oh, baby,” the nickname is like a punch to the gut, “don’t be like that.”  She presses against him, “We used to have so much fun together…”

Derek snarls at her and has a moment to enjoy her retreat before he’s screaming at the pain that blooms in the center of his chest.  It’s nowhere near the intensity from earlier, but it serves to remind him of just who is in control.  He takes a deep breath and blows it out, hissing when the pain repeats, this time just above his left hip.  Derek gasps when it stops only to return on his right pectoral.  His face twists in agony and his mind supplies a name for the what’s being used on him: _cattle prod_.

“Oh, sweetie,” Kate’s hand smooths up his side and over his ribs, “if you’d only behave, I wouldn’t have to hurt you.”  Her breath passes over his skin a fraction of a second before her lips brush the center of his chest, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it all better.”  Kate kisses each of the cattle prod contact points, tongue flicking out to trace around them.

Derek presses his lips together, gritting out between his teeth, “Don’t.”

Kate _hmms_ softly, fingers working the button of his jeans open, “You can pretend all you want, Derek, but I know what you like, remember?”

Her question sends a chill through him and Derek struggles in earnest, chains rattling loudly.  He sucks in a breath when she lowers the zipper and slips a hand inside of his jeans.

“See?”  Kate’s hand wraps around him and strokes gently, “Don’t fight it, baby.”

Derek bares his teeth, growling down at her, even as his body responds to her touch, “Don’t...call me that.”

“Mmm,” her grip tightens around him, squeezing almost painfully, “what _should_ I call you then?”

He doesn’t answer her, simply tries to ignore just how good her hand feels.  Derek’s hips twitch and he struggles to fight the devastating need to thrust into her grip.

Kate laughs up at him, strokes speeding up until Derek gives in and rocks his hips forward, “There you go.”  She leans in to curl her tongue around the head of his dick, breath wafting over the spit-slick flesh, “Feels good doesn’t it?”  Kate eases her mouth over him, sucking gently, hand corkscrewing around him.

And Derek aches.  He wants.  And he hates himself for it.

“I’ve always loved your cock,” Kate teases her teeth over him, “and that’s saying a lot, you know.”  Her lips wrap around him and retreat, “Never been a fan of uncut men, but for you?  For you I made an exception, Derek.”

Whatever he would have said, dies in his throat, lost in the feel of Kate’s hand working him faster.  Derek tosses his head back, swallowing hard, chest heaving with each ragged breath.  His hands curl into fists and he tugs at the shackles, a roar building inside him.  He squeezes his eyes shut and growls, “Get.  Your.  Filthy.  Hands.  Off.  Me.”

Kate laughs, “Oh, alright,” her hand slows and withdraws, fingernails scratching though the trail of hair low on his belly.

The words leave Derek confused, he listens to her footsteps move away from him and back towards the corner she was originally in.  He rolls his shoulders in an effort to get more leverage on the restraints above his head and startles slightly at the sound of Kate dragging the chair closer.

“You know,” she sighs dramatically as she takes a seat in the chair, “if you’re not willing to play, we’re just gonna have to go back to torturing you.”

Derek struggles against her hands as they tug his jeans off his hips, “Stop it!”  He lifts his leg up kick at her, gasping when she presses the cattle prod to the uppermost curve of his ass.  “Kate, please, d-” Derek sucks in a surprised breath when she takes him into her mouth.  His hands wrap around the bars above him, head tossing back in a helpless moan.

Kate works her mouth over him, each pass of her lips followed by a stroke of her hand.  She smiles around him and taunts, “See?  Isn’t it more fun when you just play along?”

Derek snarls at her, lifting both feet off the floor to kick her square in the chest.  He hears Kate’s chair scrape across the floor and then the click of boot heels as she comes closer.  Derek hears the sizzle of the cattle prod and screams when she stabs it into his groin.  There’s a tiny reprieve and then it’s back, pressing into his left armpit and dragging across his chest.  Derek screams, head shaking back and forth at the agonizing throb of pain.

“What did I tell you?”

Kate’s voice barely registers through the roaring of blood in his ears.  Derek blinks uselessly up at the ceiling, panting in an effort to not give her what she wants.  He fights to keep another scream from ripping out of him and falters when she jabs the cattle prod into the bolt of his jaw.  Derek’s whole body spasms and he shifts, one hand breaking free of its restraint.  He reaches for Kate, somehow managing to catch the sleeve of her jacket before she turns and stabs the cattle prod into his wrist.  Derek pulls his hand back, cradling the injured wrist against his chest, a broken sob escaping him at the press of the cattle prod into the center of his palm.  Thankfully the pain short-circuits his brain and Derek blacks out.

 

* * *

 

 

Derek opens his eyes and the first thing he notices is that the blindfold is gone.  It takes him a little longer to realize he’s completely naked.  Derek’s also no longer in the basement observation room.  At least, not the one he was previously chained up in.  A look around confirms he’s in one of the smaller holding cells, one of the soundproof ones.  The realization brings with it a sudden urgency.  Derek struggles against the bonds pinning his arms behind his back.  He sits forward, choking down a groan at the pull of his shoulder muscles.  His head snaps up at the sound of the thick steel door squealing open.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Derek bares his teeth, a threatening growl shuddering out of him.

Kate grins at him and slams the door shut.  “You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

“Come closer,” he narrows his gaze on her, “I’ll show you just how cute I can be, bitch.”  Derek twists his wrists back and forth, trying to work one of his hands free.  He’s secured to the modified steel exam chair in the center of the room, both arms hooked over the shoulder-height cross bar behind him.  Derek’s thighs and ankles are secured to the legs of the exam chair, making it difficult to move more than an a few inches in any direction.

“You might as well stop trying,” Kate smirks, “That’s wolfsbane-infused rope...I’m afraid you won’t be able to break free, sweetie.”

Derek clenches his jaw at her use of the endearment and sits back, staring at her in silence as she pets a hand over his cheek.

“So angry.”  Kate pouts down at him, fingernails teasing through the hair at the base of his neck, “The Derek I remember was much nicer.”

Derek blinks back his angry tears and jerks his head out of her grip, “The Derek you knew went on to have his family slaughtered by someone he trusted.”  He shuts his eyes when Kate chuckles under her breath and presses his lips together to keep from saying anything else.

“True,” Kate concedes.

Derek takes a deep breath, struggling to get his anger under control.  Being emotional isn’t beneficial.  In fact, it will undoubtedly give Kate the upper hand.  She’s always had the ability to make him feel unbalanced and vulnerable, even all those years ago.  He hears Kate move behind the exam chair and Derek nearly gives in to the need to turn simply to keep her in his line of sight.

“You know,” Kate circles the room, twisting a length of rope between her hands.  “I have to admit, when I saw you after all these years?  I wondered,” her steps bring her closer and she reaches out to take his chin in her hand, “other than your cute little babyface, just what else changed about you.” 

“A lot of things have changed.”

Kate’s eyes rake down his naked body, “I’ll say.”  She licks at her lips, one corner of her mouth lifting in a grin, “You’ve filled out rather nicely.  Some places more than others.”

Derek blinks up in surprise at the hungry look in her eyes.  He’s seen it before.  As a naive teenager, he’d mistaken the look for love.  It’s taken years, but Derek finally knows better.  The look is one of a predator surveying its prey.  Sitting in the modified exam chair, restrained as he is, that is exactly what Derek is: prey, completely at her mercy.

Kate settles across his lap, hand still gripping his chin, “You were always so eager to please, weren’t you?”  She smiles, “Please tell me that hasn’t changed.”

Derek resists the urge to pull out of her grip and swallows hard, eyes never leaving hers as she winds the length of rope around his throat, “Why are you doing this?”

“Oh, sweetie, you know why.”  Kate tightens the rope, “If you tell me what I want to know, I’ll put a stop to all this.”

 A small hiss of pain escapes when Derek moves his head, the drag of the rope burning slightly, “I won’t tell you.”

Kate smiles, eyes lighting up in glee, “I was kinda hoping you’d say that.”  She stands up and starts unbuttoning her top, “That means I get to see just how much my pretty boy has or hasn’t changed.”

Ice-cold dread unfurls in Derek’s stomach, his eyes widening as it becomes glaringly evident just how evil Kate has become.  Derek averts his eyes, snarling when Kate chooses to straddle his thighs.  “I won’t give you what you want, Kate.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”  She leans to whisper in his ear, “You might be surprised to find out just what I want.”

Derek jerks away from her, biting back his grunt of pain when the rope abrades the skin of his throat.

“Now, now, behave.”  Kate smooths his hair back, “Just what did you think was going to happen, baby?”  She wrinkles her nose at him, “Did you think I wore the skirt so I could look pretty for you?”  Kate laughs at reaction, “Well, I didn’t.”  She rubs her cheek along his and chuckles, “I didn’t wear the skirt for you, lover.”

Derek squeezes his eyes shut, swallowing down the urge to scream in frustration as Kate reaches down to curl a hand around his dick.

“I wore the skirt so I that when I came in here with you,” Kate licks up the side of his face and whispers, “no one would know there wasn’t anything underneath.”  She sucks his earlobe into her mouth and tugs on it with her teeth before reminding him, “Remember when I used to do that for you?”  Kate moans softly, hips rocking forwards, “I’d wear those tiny little skirts and we’d fuck in the backseat of your mommy’s car?  Do you remember that?”

“Stop it!”

Kate’s hand is working him harder and Derek struggles to ignore just how good it feels, but she knows what he likes; she knows just how hard to squeeze, when to ease up, how fast to stroke him and exactly how much he can take.

Derek sucks in a trembling breath and it causes her to laugh in his ear, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His jaw clenches painfully and he spits out a heated, “No.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Kate twists her hand, “I can feel just how hard you are.  In fact, your pretty cock is already leaking pre-come and I haven’t even gotten started yet.”

Derek blanches.  He knows exactly what Kate is implying.  If he was honest with himself, he’s known for quite some time just what her endgame was.  He’s just been so focused on other things to fully grasp just how far Kate was willing to go in her pursuit of information. 

“You going to be a good boy for me?”

“Fuck you!”

Kate laughs into his neck, “Oh we’ll get to that.”

Knowing what Kate is planning doesn’t make his predicament any easier.  Derek leans his head forward as far as he can, trying to tuck his face away from her.  He winces at the drag of the rope on the already raw skin of his throat.  The feel of Kate grinding in his lap is a painful reminder of days past.  Derek’s eyes fill with angry, frustrated tears.  He’s trying so to ignore the taunts she’s whispering against his skin but try as he might, Derek cannot deny just how good it feels to have someone touch him.

It’s been far too long and his body is reacting against his will.  Derek retreats into his mind, eyes drifting shut as Kate’s hand strokes him.  A surprising twist of her wrist makes his eyes snap open.  She sees his reaction and smirks, the expression one of smug triumph, “I know that look.”  Kate releases him, fingernails raking up his belly and chest.  She shifts in his lap, one hand disappearing beneath her skirt.

Derek leans away from her, nostrils flaring when the smell of her arousal hits him.  He swallows hard, the action painful.  Derek’s face twists, hatred coloring his words, “You know nothing.”

Kate laughs, hips gyrating in his lap, “I can see your nostrils flaring, Derek.”  She licks her lips, a small moan preceding her words, “I can see your pupils dilated.” 

Derek shuts his eyes, gritting his teeth at her words.

The next words are barely above a whisper, “I can see just how much you want it, how much you want me.  Your chest is heaving with each breath.”  Kate sits back to look at him, lips pursing as she speaks, voice condescending,  “Poor thing, you’re nearly panting for it.”

It’s the tone of voice that finally does it for Derek.  His vision bleeds to red and he shifts, snarling at her.  Derek arches up, jaws snapping in her face, heedless of the rope around his throat.

Kate eases out of his lap quickly, barely avoiding his teeth.  Her face is tight with rage as she moves behind him, “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

Derek twists in his seat, practically spitting words at her, “ _I_ shouldn’t have?  Let’s talk about things _you_ shouldn’t have done, huh?  Now _that’s_ a conversation I’d like to have.”  Derek knows he shouldn’t goad her, but he’s angry.  Angry at her, angry at the situation, but importantly, Derek is angry with himself.

She doesn’t answer him.

Derek takes a calming breath, but his reprieve is short-lived.  He hears the muted _snick_ of a pocketknife and has a split-second to brace himself before she’s in front of him once more.

Kate wipes the knife through a cloth and fists a hand in his hair, jerking his head back to to expose the line of his throat.  She shoves the knife through the soft underside of his jaw and up into his mouth.

Derek’s mouth fills with blood and he coughs to keep from choking.  He feels his body trying to repair the damage, but with the knife still embedded in his flesh there’s only so much his werewolf healing can do.

Kate leans her face closer and hisses, “Such a mouthy little shit, aren’t you?”  She grins and singsongs, “It will make breaking you so much more fun.”  Kate presses a noisy kiss to his forehead and releases his hair in favor of looping a length of rope between his parted lips.  When he’s effectively gagged, she pulls the knife out and tosses it aside.

Derek swallows reflexively, eyes locked with Kate’s as he does.  He knows nothing he does will get her to stop.  She’s obviously made up her mind that he’s not going to talk and that makes her all the more dangerous.  Derek’s throat works convulsively in an effort to combat the nearly overwhelming urge to spit in her arrogant face.

“Tongue all healed?”

Derek nods slowly.

Kate smiles, “Good.  You know, I’ve always been fascinated by werewolf healing.”  She sits across his lap and muses conversationally, “That and lycanthropic metabolism.  See, I’ve learned that medications don’t affect werewolves the same way.  I mean, they do have the same effect but it’s quicker and the effect doesn’t last as long.  Correct?”

Again, Derek nods, this time more cautiously.

“Take Viagra, for example…”

Derek’s eyes widen.  _That’s_ what the taste on the knife was.  What he’d mistakenly thought was something innocuous must have been-

“…you can grind it up and make it into a liquid form…well, it’s syrupy, but you get the point.  It’s fairly easy to do.  The only problem you run into is getting someone to drink it.”  Kate smiles at him and pets over his face, one fingernail ghosting down the bridge of his nose, “But even then, that’s not really a difficult hurdle to overcome.” 

He swallows painfully; regret settling in his stomach.

She peeks down into his lap and licks her lips, “I’m impressed.  I expected it to take longer.”  Kate shifts in his lap, trapping his erection between them.  She rocks her hips back and forth, giving just enough friction to get him harder.

Derek leans away from her, from the overpowering stench of her excitement.  Breathing through his mouth only serves to make it worse, his heightened werewolf senses screaming at him to take advantage of a willing partner.  He leans his head back, eyes fixing on the ceiling above him.

Kate grips his hair in both hands and moans against his neck, “I can’t wait to see if you still make that cute little face when you come.”  Her hips gyrate in a circle, grinding against him, “How long has it been, Derek?  Hmm?”

Derek squeezes his eyes shut.  He can feel how wet she is…can smell it and goddamn if his traitorous body doesn’t want what she’s offering.

There’s the sound of a foil wrapper being torn open and then Kate is rolling a condom onto his cock, “Mustn’t forget this.”  She smirks, pressing her forehead against his, “Wouldn’t want to go through _that_ _mess_ again.”  Kate lets the words settle, head tossing back as she sinks onto him inch by inch.

Derek’s eyebrows furrow at the implication.

Kate tugs his head back once more, gripping tight fistfuls of his hair as she rides him.  She’s muttering filth in his ear and his body responds against his will.

Derek doesn’t keep track of how many orgasms Kate has, only knows that each time _he_ gets close, she stops and laughs in his face.

The game lasts entirely too long.

Before long, he’s panting and begging around his gag.  Derek begs for Kate to stop, but in the next breath he’s begging for her to ride him harder, faster.

By the end of it all, Derek is pleading for her to let him come.  He doesn’t care anymore; he just wants it to stop.  When he finally does orgasm, there are tears in his eyes.  It hits him like a freight train, leaving him completely and utterly wrecked.  Derek’s chest is heaving from exertion and the rope in his mouth is soaked through, drool coating it and his chin.

Kate rocks in his lap slowly, a lazy smile curling her lips, “That was fun.  We should definitely do this again.”


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the Hurt/Comfort I promised in the tags.
> 
> Kudos if you guys can guess _-without using google-_ which movie the guys are quoting at the end of the fic.

_“That was fun.  We should definitely do this again.”_

Derek is up and out of bed the instant the words are free of Stiles’ mouth.  He wipes a hand over his face and struggles to calm his breathing.  His vision is hazy and Derek can feel the panic welling up in his chest.

_Six years._

Six years and those words are enough to put him back in that basement, back in that room.  Derek’s so far-gone that he doesn’t realize Stiles has left the warmth of the bed until a hand is gliding over his shoulder.  Before the movement even fully registers, Derek has spun around and pushed Stiles against the wall, hand clamped around his boyfriend’s throat.

Stiles wheezes out Derek’s name, fingers clawing at the grip restricting his airway.  His eyes are wide and pleading, bottom lip quivering in fear.  He reaches out, with trembling fingers, to smooth over the planes of Derek’s face, to cup his cheek.  Stiles’ thumb rubs Derek’s cheekbone, tears escaping down his own face as his vision blurs from lack of oxygen.

Derek’s eyes clear, realization setting in, and he sucks in a breath, releasing Stiles while simultaneously backing away in fear, “I’m sorry!  I’m so sorry.”

Stiles coughs and sputters as he slides to the floor.  He swallows painfully, dragging in lungfuls of air.  Stiles wipes at his eyes and looks up, calling out hoarsely, “It’s okay.”  He crawls across the bedroom floor and repeats, “Derek, it’s okay.”

Derek is wedged between the bed and the dresser, arms wrapped around his drawn-up knees and he’s rocking back and forth, muttering _‘I’m sorry’_ over and over.

Stiles carefully reaches out and whispers, “Derek?”

Derek shrinks in on himself and Stiles pulls his hand back.  He can tell that Derek is sobbing, each _‘I’m sorry’_ getting progressively more tear-logged.  Stiles isn’t sure what to do, but he knows one thing’s for sure.

He needs to help Derek through whatever trauma he’s reliving.

“Derek, honey?”  Stiles reaches a hand out and exhales across his palm,in the hopes that his scent will maybe bring Derek back to him.  He blows across his palm a second time and tries again, “It’s me, baby.”  The moniker garnishes a pained moan out of Derek and Stiles rushes to soothe him, “I’m sorry, I'm sorry.  No more nicknames.”  He clears his throat and exhales over his palm once more.

Derek looks up, his nostrils flaring slightly.

“Hey, you.”  Stiles gives his boyfriend a smile, “Recognize me?”

Derek’s eyes are showing too much white, but after a few tense moments, he finally nods jerkily.

“Good.”  Stiles shifts into a seated position and holds both hands out, “Can I touch you?”

Derek whines and curls into himself again, tremors shaking his entire frame.

Stiles rushes to assure him, “Okay, okay.  I won’t touch you, I promise.”  He leans against the bed and blows out a few breaths, in an effort to calm his own nerves.  After a few minutes, the sound of Derek’s sobs quiet and Stiles turns to look at him.  He finds Derek watching him from behind his knees.  Stiles reaches out a hand, palm up, and when Derek doesn’t flinch he brushes fingertips over his boyfriend’s arm, “You okay?”

“I think so.”

“You wanna tell me what happened?”

“I-I-I,” Derek’s face twists and he squeezes his eyes shut.

Stiles shuffles closer, whispering soothingly, “Hey, shhh.  You don’t need to tell me.  Not if you don’t want to.”  He’s within a few inches when Derek springs forward in a burst of werewolf speed.  Stiles is on his back in seconds, his boyfriend nuzzling at his naked chest.  “Whoa, hey,” a startled laugh escapes Stiles before he can stop it, “hi, you!”  He pets a hand over the back of Derek’s neck and teases lightly, “What are you doing, silly wolf?  Are you scenting me?  Hmm?  Is that what you’re doing?”

Derek whines, chuffing at Stiles’ collarbones.

Stiles nudges Derek and whispers, “Hey.”  He waits until Derek looks up, and then tilts his head back, baring his throat in submission, using one single finger to point, “There’s much better scenting to be done up here.”  Stiles hums contentedly when Derek presses his face into the side of his neck and inhales deeply.  He cards his fingers through Derek’s hair and murmurs encouragement, “There you go.  You like that?  Go ahead and get a nice big whiff.  That smell?  That’s _your_ human.  All yours.”

Derek presses open-mouthed kisses along Stiles’ skin, chest rumbling happily. 

They stay that way for quite some time before Derek speaks, “I had a flashback.”

Stiles makes a noise of acknowledgement, “I figured.”  His fingers are still moving through Derek’s hair as he speaks, “You want to tell me about it?”

“I, um,” Derek takes a deep breath before continuing in a shaky voice, “I was back in that basement, back in that room and I…”

“Back in the room Kate tortured you in?”  Stiles feels Derek nod against his chest; doesn’t miss how Derek’s shoulders tense at the mention of Kate.  He turns to press his lips to Derek’s temple and whispers, “How did I trigger you?”

Derek swallows audibly.  “It was,” he wraps his arms tighter and whispers back, “it was what you said.”

Stiles thinks back, jaw clenching when he remembers just what he said.  The fact that _those two_ sentences, _together,_ caused such a visceral response can only mean one thing.  He blinks back angry tears; voice shaking with barely contained rage.  “She raped you.”

A quiet, “Yes,” is the only answer Stiles gets.

“Oh, Derek…” Stiles blinks back tears, “why didn’t you say anything?”

Derek lifts his head to look at him and pulls out of his arms.  He leans his shoulders on the mattress set and mutters, “What’s the point?  The past is the past and it doesn’t matter.  We move on.  That’s how life is.”

Stiles sits up and cups Derek’s face, “Oh god, baby, no!”  He sees the way Derek flinches at the nickname and grits his teeth.  “She called you that, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“What else?”  At Derek’s confused expression, Stiles clarifies, “What other nicknames did she use?”

Derek eyes him suspiciously, “Why do you want to know?”

“So that I don’t use them.”  Stiles tilts his head, knowing that Derek will be able to sense the truth in his words, “To keep from triggering you.”

“Just that one.”  Derek makes a face and adds quietly, “And ‘sweetie’ was another favorite.”

Stiles nods, “Anything else?”

Derek shakes his head.

“Okay.”  Stiles blows out a breath, “If you think of anything, you’ll tell me?”

“I will.”

“Good.  Now,” Stiles leans in to nose at Derek’s jaw, “can we get into bed?  My human body is complaining about sitting on this cold, hard floor.”

Derek huffs a laugh and nods, “Yeah.  Bed sounds good.”

Stiles stands up and quickly dives under the covers.  He wiggles over to his side of the bed and makes grabby hands at Derek, “C’mere!  Hurry, hurry!”

Derek joins him, tucking the covers around them, and grouses good-naturedly, “You’re just wanting your werewolf furnace.”

“Mmmm,” Stiles burrows into Derek’s side, “not true, but it’s a definite bonus.”  He presses a kiss to the center of his boyfriend’s chest, “my warmy-warm with a pulse.”

“I’m your ‘warmy-warm with a pulse?’”

“Mmm hmm.”  Stiles nuzzles into Derek’s shoulder and smiles dopily, “among other things.”

“Oh yeah?  Like what?”

Stiles smiles against his skin and lists off, each nickname preceding a lingering brush of lips on Derek’s chest, “You’re my Honey, my Snuggle Muffin, my Cuddle Buddy, my Love Bug, my Snookums Wookums, my-”

Derek cuts him off with an offended, “Did you seriously just make a dog joke?”

“I,” Stiles gasps, “Oh my god, you’ve seen that movie?”

“Yes!”  Derek squeezes Stiles until he giggles, “You’re a menace.”

Stiles lifts his head and grins, “You love it.”

Derek _hmms_ softly, “I love _you_ ,” he chuckles at Stiles’ blush, “my Little Binky Booter.”

Stiles laughs, nose wrinkling, “Your Squishy Bottom?”

Derek squints an eye shut in contemplation, “Mmm, sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?”  Stiles quirks a brow at Derek’s nod, “Good to know.”  He snuggles into Derek’s side, yawning quietly.  They’re almost asleep when Stiles drowsily utters, “I love you, boo.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on [tumblr](http://annabethlemorte.tumblr.com/). I promise I don't bite...much. *grins*
> 
> Please be warned: Blog is NSFW.


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